


The Path Less Traveled

by darkling59



Series: Annals of the Incomplete [40]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempted Murder, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3550589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkling59/pseuds/darkling59
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel is taken by the leviathans, he expects to die. Instead, he wakes up in Cold Oak, South Dakota mere days before Dean is schedules to make a deal to save his brother's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The last thing Castiel saw before being consumed by the leviathans was Dean’s horrified expression, the last thing he felt was the cool water turning to lukewarm slime at the leviathan’s touch, and the last thing he thought was “I’m Sorry,” directed at the human who was somehow the reason for it all. When it came, the end was painful…like drowning and suffocating while being ripped apart at the seams. The closest thing he could compare it to was being smote, only in slow motion so he could feel every agonizing rend and tear to his grace.

Finally, his grace became stretched too thin…he had too little of himself left to feel…then, he stopped feeling anything at all.

And Castiel ceased to exist.

* * *

He woke up.

This was…a surprise. More than a surprise: impossible.

The angel – and he _was_ an angel again (still?)- stayed perfectly still and extended his grace cautiously., He could feel the warped soul of a demon along with a few humans nearby , but none of them were aware of his presence. He was on Earth, held within his vessel, and in no immediate danger. An in depth analysis of his power levels revealed that he was dangerously weak; there was enough grace left to fly and summon his sword, but that was about it. His power potential was back to where it had been before the purgatory souls (a little below archangel-level) but it would take a while –months, maybe- for his grace to recover to even his seraph power levels from before retrieving Dean from Hell.

And he was still, somehow, alive.

Tentatively, almost worried that this was a cruel trick and he’d be struck down if he drew attention, he opened his eyes. The sky was blue and he seemed to be in a deserted human town, laying on a patch of scrubby grass under a bench in what looked like a small park. The grass was so overgrown that it towered at least four feet overhead; it was unlikely anyone had seen him arrive . Slowly; shaky and far too connected to his human senses due to his low power level; Castiel extracted himself from the narrow space and pushed himself into a sitting position next to the bench.

“…What?” His voice was raspy even for him. He cocked his head and looked towards the sky. “I don’t understand.”

A tense moment passed while he waited for whoever/whatever had brought him here to respond. Was it the Winchesters? His brothers? Raphael? The Leviathans?...His Father?

And, more importantly, why had they brought him here?

No response.

Castiel tried to stand up but quickly sat back down, ducking his head between his knees as dizziness and nausea nearly overwhelmed him. That…should not have been possible. Not as an angel.

He really didn’t understand. Where were the Winchesters? Was Dean okay? Why wasn’t Castiel in purgatory? What happened with the leviathans? Had his final message gotten through to Dean? Was he really an angel again? Was this all some sort of elaborate hallucination?

Where was he?

After a moment, when his stomach and head seemed stable enough, he sat up and relocated to sitting on the bench, slumped over and staring at the ground. He extended his senses, searching for his physical and temporal locations and/or something that would lead him back to the Winchesters. Bobby, maybe, or…

He was in Cold Oak, South Dakota, four days before Sam’s death and five before Dean’s deal.

And he was in a different dimension.

“This still makes no sense.” He informed the world at large, a trifle petulantly (not that there was anyone there to hear him).

He was now fairly certain this was not a hallucination and, if it was a product of the leviathans and purgatory, then it was not an intentional one. So either this whole thing was an accident, probably caused by interference in his death, or his Father was responsible. And if Father was responsible, then Castiel would do everything he could to repent for his actions.

With that thought in mind, he attempted to stand again and found himself steady enough to begin staggering towards the buildings where he could feel humans gathering. After a moment he stopped and looked back at the bench, then at the ground, then at the sky. He cocked his head quizzically.

“…Where is my coat?”

* * *

Eventually, Castiel managed to stagger out of the park and paused at the street, trying to decide what to do. After a moment’s thought, he turned and began to circle the town, focusing on the human and demonic life signs but not getting any closer.

It would be a good idea to check whether or not anyone/thing else had come through the dimensional tear before deciding what to do. Theoretically, it shouldn’t matter what he did because it wasn’t his dimension but he had to be there for a reason, right? He just had to figure out whether that reason was to preserve events as they were supposed to happen, or to stop them from happening.

He was only walking for ten minutes before the choice was taken out of his hands.

Since before he had arrived, one human life sign had been straying from the others, far enough that eventually it left the town altogether. It was a good mile away when the demonic life sign started traveling towards it, at a speed too great for a human to avoid. He almost stayed uninvolved, figuring that the human was one of Azazel’s chosen and could handle him/herself.

Then he heard the scream.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean arrived to a fight in progress, but all he could see was his brother. And when Sam turned towards him with a smile on his face, leaving his back open, neither of them noticed until -

“Sam! Down!”

The voice was unfamiliar and totally unexpected but Sam reacted on instinct and dropped like a rock, flat onto his stomach while Dean skidded to a halt, pulling up his gun.

Jake missed Sam by four inches, stabbing for his spine but stumbling as his target moved and barely falling with a curse to Dean’s shot of rock salt. He staggered up and fled as Dean grabbed Sam and hauled him up, roughly checking him over. Bobby didn’t even pause before giving chase to the fleeing solder.

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice was rough with two days of concern and terror. “You good? You okay?”

“Ah, yeah.” Sam sounded stunned. “I…did Jake…?”

“He tried to kill you, Sammy.”

“I…yeah.” His brow furrowed in sudden confusion. “Someone yelled.”

“Yeah.” Dean gave Sam a final rough pat on the back and stepped away. It was a tribute to how worried both of them had been that they hadn’t separated before now.

It took a moment to locate the older guy in a suit standing on the porch of one of the stores nearby, and Andy standing behind him.

“Hey!” Dean yelled, waving them closer but not putting away his gun or lowering his guard. Sam’s head swiveled to see who he was yelling and his mouth dropped in surprise.

“Andy?” At first it was murmured but it quickly turned into a shout. “ANDY? You’re alive?”

He took off for the building, ignoring Dean trying to hold him back. With a muffled curse, Dean took off after him. The guy in the suit didn’t move but Andy came to the front of the porch and waved.

“Hey Sam! Ah, Dean.” He gave Dean a more nervous smile. The dark haired guy watched both of them with inscrutable blue eyes. Sam skipped the porch steps in a single bound and stopped in front of Andy, gaping. Dean wasn’t far behind, cursing and baring his gun. He came to a halt at Sam’s shoulder, looming for the intimidation factor and focusing his glare on the only face he didn’t recognize. The guy stared back, expression totally blank.

“Andy! You’re okay…”Sam’s confusion was evident. “Did you yell?”

“Nope, not me.” He gestured at his companion who tilted his head.

Sam stared.

“YOU yelled? But…I thought you couldn't talk!”

The guy cocked his head and shifted one shoulder in what might have been a shrug.

“Uh, Sam? Care to introduce us?”

“Sure. Dean, you already know Andy…” Both men nodded warily at each other. “And this is…Cas. We think.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow, gaze never leaving ‘Cas’. “You _think_?”

“He doesn’t actually _talk_ , but Andy came up with Cas and he hasn’t protested so…” Sam shrugged. His brother scowled and shifted his grip on the gun. ‘Cas’ didn’t even glance at the weapon.

“Except…” Sam was watching with a confused crease between his eyes. “I guess he can talk, because he just yelled.”

Cas turned that laser-like stare on Sam but still didn’t say anything. There was a long uncomfortable silence.

“Uh-huh…’scuse us.” Dean grabbed Sam’s arm and yanked him away.

“Cas, huh?”

“Well, yeah. He’s a little weird but seems like a good guy. I mean, he saved my life.” Both of them fell silent as the thought really sunk in. Dean straightened and swallowed while Sam blanched and looked out at the street in the direction Jake had run off in.

“Alright.” He turned back towards the other two, expression friendlier than before.

“Hey, Cas!” the older man turned towards him, cocking his head in query. “You human?”

Dean knew without looking that Sam was bitch-facing at his back.

The other man cocked his head and considered for a minute then shook his head ‘no’.

“…Oh.” He…had no idea how to respond to that. Supernatural creatures rarely owned up and none of them had ever saved his brother’s life before. He couldn’t kill him (it), but he couldn’t disregard whatever threat he/it posed, either.

After another long moment of awkward silence while the hunters exchanged looks, Andy tried to stay out of the way, and Cas just kept _staring_ , Dean pasted a wide, false smile on his face.

“So! What are you?”

“Dean!”

Sam's bitch face was _epic._

**Author's Note:**

> So I sort of have a thing for time travel. Originally, this was going to be a series of chapters about Castiel jumping about the Winchesters' timeline as he searched for redemption, but that didn't happen. But here's the Cold Oak segment!


End file.
